


Jersey

by starlitcities



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, Just lots of smut, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Clothed Sex, Smut, they're in college or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitcities/pseuds/starlitcities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why did you try it on?”</p>
<p>“I...wanted to see how it would look,” Kuroo answers, and it’s not a lie. He pulls gently at the hems of the jersey, flashing a cheeky grin. It falls away when he sees a familiar glazed look cross Bokuto’s golden gaze, and it makes his stomach churn and his cheeks turn scarlet. “Wait a second. You...you like this?”</p>
<p>“You look good in it,” Bokuto answers, moving towards him slowly, snagging his lower lip between his teeth, “<i>really good.</i>”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jersey

**Author's Note:**

> This is because a friend and I can't stop coming up with headcanons.  
> This was literally an excuse to write porn.
> 
> Enjoy!

It starts out with an idea, one that Kuroo honest to God thought would be pure and innocent, maybe cute and romantic—because he figured he should try that sort of thing from time to time. Bokuto had gone downstairs to grab something to eat and drink, because he had an appetite that almost couldn’t be sated.

Kuroo eyes it carefully, hanging in the closet, all in greys and whites and golds, smelling like a mix of Bokuto and soft detergent. Bokuto cherishes his old high school jersey, still bringing it out and using it on occasion, wearing it because it brings back good memories, things like that.

A blush dusts across Kuroo’s cheeks, because this idea is probably extremely stupid, and Bokuto is going to laugh at him, and he almost ditches the idea until he’s already pulled one arm through the sleeve. He turns and looks at the mirror, swiveling back and forth as he admires the way he looks in his boyfriend’s jersey.

It’s strange, because the colors actually look good against his sunkissed skin, not as stunning as Bokuto looks in it but good enough. He forgot that Bokuto is more muscular than he is, looking at the way the jersey fits loose against his chest and hangs low, lapping at the tops of his thighs, barely covering the small black fabric of his briefs. Kuroo smiles at himself in the mirror, because he actually likes the idea of having a boyfriend shirt, and even if it’s a jersey, and he’s only going to wear it for five minutes, it’s one of those sentimental things that’s hard to ask for out loud but so rewarding when given.

He tugs the seam of the neckline up to his nose and inhales, hugging himself tight in the fabric and admiring the way it drapes on him in his reflection.

His heart drops when he hears the door click open.

“ Teshsu, I acshually did haff your—!”

Kuroo freezes, his visible eye wide and locked onto Bokuto’s surprised expression. The bag of chips between his teeth drops to the floor, “favorite…” he mumbles, looking Kuroo up and down. He starts from the bottom and works up, eyes roaming over long legs that disappear beneath dark briefs and his own jersey.

“Don’t laugh,” Kuroo snaps, watching as Bokuto whips around to shut the door with a slam—thank heavens no one is home— picking up the dropped back and setting all the food and drinks onto his desk.

“Why did you try it on?”

“I...wanted to see how it would look,” Kuroo answers, and it’s not a lie. He pulls gently at the hems of the jersey, flashing a cheeky grin. It falls away when he sees a familiar glazed look cross Bokuto’s golden gaze, and it makes his stomach churn and his cheeks turn scarlet. “Wait a second. You...you like this?”

“You look good in it,” Bokuto answers, moving towards him slowly, snagging his lower lip between his teeth, “ _really good_.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo asks, sucking in air sharply when Bokuto swivels them, knocking Kuroo’s feet from under him and dropping him to the mattress. “Hey! Koutarou—”

Bokuto pauses, one hand on the hem of his shirt, the other snaking beneath the jersey and palming flat against his warm stomach. “Can I?”

Kuroo scans over his boyfriend. Eyes golden with a lusty haze over them, jaw slacked as he draws his tongue across his lower lip, hair down with a fringe across his forehead from a shower he probably had earlier. Kuroo has half a mind right now to consider what possible forces of the universe granted him a boyfriend this good looking, this adorable, and yet he was still polite enough to ask for sex.

“Kou, we’re dating, you don’t need to—”

“Yeah, I do,” Bokuto murmurs, and it makes Kuroo grin, and nod in response. It doesn’t take much more than a gentle dip of his head for Bokuto’s switch to flip. His lips crash over Kuroo’s with some kind of desperation, like he’d been holding out for two weeks versus five minutes. Bokuto pulls back enough to discard his shirt over his head and throw it into some obscure corner of the room. Kuroo laughs when it lands over Bokuto’s TV.

“Baaaka,” Kuroo chuckles, but it’s silenced when a low growl rumbles against his throat, and somewhere in the frenzy of heated lip lock and banter, Bokuto manages to toss his basketball shorts off into another part of the room.

Kuroo sighs upwards at the ceiling when he feels Bokuto’s chest tan and hot press against his own, the only separation being the thin layer of the Fukurodani jersey. His pleasant sigh turns into a low groan when hips shift hard against his own. Kuroo feels it easily, prominent, pressed against the groove of his thigh and groin. “That hard already, huh?”

“Told you, you look good,” Bokuto sucks at a spot on Kuroo’s neck, already having left an Orion’s belt of reddish-purple bites along his skin. Kuroo winces, gasping as the pain shoots through his skin and quickly twists into a weird pleasure that makes his cock twitch beneath his briefs. He keens, rolling hips up to meet Bokuto’s in need.

“W-wait, the jersey,” Kuroo gasps, going to tug at it. Bokuto smacks his hand away rather roughly, apologizing when Kuroo looks at him funny.

“Leave it,” Bokuto mumbles, cheeks dusted with pink. He snakes his hands underneath the fabric and thumbs over Kuroo’s nipples, lightly smirking when the dark haired teen arches underneath him—Kuroo’s sensitivity is one of Bokuto’s favorite things. “I wanna do you with this on.”

“Is this some sort of secret fetish you—ah,” Kuro moans between syllables, “told me about?”

“I never thought about it until now, you just look really hot like this,” Bokuto kisses just below Kuroo’s navel, fingers hooking into his briefs and rolling them in circular motions off of Kuroo’s hips. He tosses those somewhere else--Kuroo will have to search for them later--and moves back to Kuroo, sliding a leg over his shoulder and kissing at his knee. He trails kisses, sloppy and wet up the length of his thigh, until he reaches Kuroo’s cock, admiring it heavy and and begging to be coated in a mix of pre-come and spit.

Kuroo gasps, shuddering as Bokuto drags the flat of his tongue up the underside of his shaft, slowly, teasingly along the head. Bokuto does it again, from all sides, attacking the entirety of Kuroo’s now slick erection without actually taking it between his lips. Bokuto hums, a strangled grunt of sorts when Kuroo’s fingers press against his scalp and pull at his hair, forcing himself further into Bokuto’s mouth. Kuroo rolls his hips in some form of beg when Bokuto’s mouth leaves an open mouthed, hot kiss against the base of his cock, all the way to the tip, before he sinks over him whole, taking his length into his hot cavern. It’s something Bokuto’s always been a natural at--blow jobs--so good the orgasm that follows leaves Kuroo dizzy.

“Kou--Koutarou, if you do that again I think...no, I’ll come,” Kuroo confirms, pressing a hand over his eyes to drown out the surroundings and focus on not coming in a record time. Something about Bokuto’s mouth leaves him to the visceral parts of his mind, shaking them, throwing them around and turning him to putty beneath calloused hands.

With a wet pop noise, Bokuto pulls away and wipes his chin, satisfied with the sheen of Kuroo’s erection, a sign of good sucking, and clearly, because Kuroo is flushed and panting, thighs quivering beneath Bokuto’s fingers dug into them. He’s still got that jersey, wet at stained at the front tip from Kuroo’s pre-come, and he looks delicious.

“Babe, need me to?” Kuroo asks. The nicknames only come out when Kuroo has dropped into the most primal states of sex, indicative that they’re about to get rough, and extremely sappy and sweet in the aftermath.

“Nah, turn over for me,” Bokuto shakes his head, hand disappearing for a brief moment to pull out a bottle of lube from his bedside drawer. Kuroo wriggles himself rather quickly into place, stuffing a pillow over his hands so he has something to grip onto and maybe, scream into. Bokuto pours a hefty amount into his palm, drizzling it across his fingers and teasingly letting it drip onto Kuroo’s skin, little droplets falling against the curve of Kuroo’s ass and gliding downward.

“Hurry up,” Kuroo groans, kicking Bokuto softly against his thigh.

Bokuto kisses the base of Kuroo’s spine, slicked finger circling around his hole and his free hand gliding across the length of his thigh. He feels Kuroo shift his hips backwards, a sign that he should just quit teasing and put a finger in already, and Bokuto complies, inserting a finger knuckle deep. He moves gently, carefully, knowing Kuroo can handle more but he doesn’t want to give him that rushed satisfaction yet. He’s holding out for good reason.

“Baby, just hurry up, please.” His request goes ignored. As Bokuto adds the second finger he works on another barrage of love bites down the curve of Kuroo’s ass and his thighs, letting them combine with the ones already present. Poor Kuroo won’t be allowed to wear shorts anytime soon.

Kuroo whines, moving his hips backwards again to force Bokuto to do something more, anything more. A third finger and constant stimulation over Kuroo’s prostate has him groaning rather loudly against a dark grey pillow, more of his translucent precome dribbling from his cockhead down his legs and soaking against the jersey. “Koutarou if you don’t hurry up and fuck me—” Kuroo growls.

“You want me that badly?”

“Yes,” he snarls, too maxed out with pleasure to chide. He looks back Bokuto, hips wriggling and cock twitching when Bokuto pulls himself free of his own briefs, lubing up his thick erection. Kuroo licks his lips; he puts it into his mind later that he wants to watch Bokuto jerk himself off again, it’s always really nice to look at. For now, he just wants Bokuto to stretch him full relentlessly.

“Don’t be so gentle about--FUCK! Oh my God,” Kuroo’s head drops down against the pillow, lying winded and stunned, his mind fuzzy and lost of all thought. He hadn’t expected Bokuto to enter him in one full thrust, sheathing himself inside of Kuroo harshly.

Bokuto’s in his ear, and Kuroo idly feels hands trace down the curve of his back and rest on his each of his ass cheeks, fingers digging in and leaving a nice good grip. “What was that about being gentle?”

“N-Nothing,” Kuroo mumbles when he finally regains his voice. Bokuto holds still, letting Kuroo adjust to his sudden stretch. He pulls back, and snaps his hips forward, repeating the same motion, and eliciting a sharp gasp from his lover beneath him. He presses against the dip at the base of Kuroo’s spine, loving the way he bows forward when he does him like this.

“You look so good in this jersey, fuck you look good, Tetsu,” Bokuto breathes, pulling at the damp and stained fabric, loving the way it wrinkles and folds, or the way it hugs Kuroo’s shoulder blades when he pulls taught on it. “Glad you— think so,” Kuroo grits out between harsh thrusts. His words are starting to escape him, moans and whines replacing coherent syllables.

Bokuto bends over him, pulling back at Kuroo’s hair and forcing their lips together, hips latching harshly against Kuroo, the slapping of skin filling the room. It’s drowned out by a synonymous moan from the two of them, Bokuto brushing against Kuroo’s spot and Kuroo clenching. “Shit,” Bokuto pulls back and flips Kuroo over, snatching him from under his legs and yanking him to the edge of the bed. He hoists one over his shoulder and presses the other wide, reseating himself balls deep inside of Kuroo again.

“Babe, I can’t...much longer,” Kuroo gasps, fingers lacing through Bokuto’s and gripping tight. Bokuto presses their locked hands by Kuroo’s head, his thrusts growing wild and erratic, turning Kuroo’s moans into harsh cries as he nears his edge.

“You wanted to try my jersey on, didn’t you? Let me fuck you in it, cover you in— “

“Shit babe,” Kuroo breaks, bursting beneath Bokuto. His back arches and his toes curl,, crying out harsh into Bokuto’s mouth as he comes, white hot shooting hard and splashing across the fabric of the jersey,

It’s better than Bokuto imagined it to be, and it sends his own orgasm washing over him almost too quickly. He barely makes out out of Kuroo in time as he releases all over the jersey.

He slumps, lungs burning as they claw for air and resting his temple against Kuroo’s kneecap, his smile slow, indolent and matching Kuroo’s as the dark haired teen comes down from his euphoric high.

They stay quiet for a while, drinking in the sight of one another, shaky and fucked out, covered in come and and sheened with sweat. It’s not until Bokuto gets his bearings, that he realizes Kuroo is still sporting his jersey, and while it’s extremely sexy and all, it’s covered in sticky goods that after five or ten minutes becomes gross and unwanted.

“Aw man! I’ve gotta wash it again!”

“Dumbass, didn’t you realize that going in?”

“I…” Bokuto trails off, cheeks turning pink, “n-not really. You think the stains will come out easy?”

“Yeah, try and scrub most of it off before it dies and it should be fine,” Kuroo looks down at it, wrinkling his nose and picking at the sticky and sweaty fibers. It’s not as appealing now that it’s threatening to stick to his skin.

“Did you really just try it on because? You weren’t trying to turn me on?”

“Not at all,” Kuroo shakes his head, “I just wanted to try out the whole boyfriend shirt thing.”

He glances at Bokuto slyly, waiting for a reaction. Bokuto’s grin grows ear to ear as he leans down and nuzzles against Kuroo’s cheek. “That’s cute, Tetsu. Wear my clothes more often, please?”

“Yeah, we should do this more often, too,” Kuroo smiles back, running fingers through Bokuto’s hair as he kisses him slow and lazy.

“Now help me up, my hips are killing me.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I live for tanned Kuroo, bottom Kuroo, pleading Kuroo, just shut me up. I also really love Bokuto asking for consent it's one of the sexiest and most adorable headcanons I have for that boy honestly.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and Kudos are lovely ^-^
> 
> Reach me at my [tumblr](fukuchan.god.jp) or [twitter](twitter.com/tendousatori)


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